Ten Thousand and Eight
by QuietLittleVoices
Summary: Castiel knew that the way the universe had arranged itself was to have one core, central timeline with an infinity of universes branching out of every decision that humans made. (The world had ended in approximately 8 billion of these universe. It had achieved ultimate world peace in 17. He was human in 14384).


Castiel knew that the way the universe had arranged itself was to have one core, central timeline with an infinity of universes branching out of every decision that humans made. (The world had ended in approximately 8 billion of these universe. It had achieved ultimate world peace in 17. He was human in 14384).

Because of these fragmented universes, time wasn't linear – especially not for angels, beings who could see all of history happening at once. The invention of the computer came before the fall of the tower of Babylon but after its creation; Eve ate the apple before she ever met Adam and after the Eiffel tower was rebuilt.

Out of the over fourteen hundred timelines where he was human, he'd only been born human in a thousand of them. In the rest, he'd fallen. That meant, in the core timeline, he was still an angel, falling, fallen, and human. Every moment he felt the supernova inside of him collapse and rebuild, but he kept peace with the ten hundred timelines where he was happy. In not a single one of those was he an angel; he was human or he was fallen. Angels didn't know happiness; in those timelines he had purpose and nothing else.

It took a millennia, or maybe only a second, for Castiel to pinpoint the commonality between the timelines in which he was happy. It wasn't just his status as something non-angelic – the constant was Dean.

In every timelines where Castiel was happy, he was with Dean Winchester. He knew that, even if they never met, in every timeline he was waiting for Dean, but the opposite wasn't true. Dean was happy in fifteen hundred timelines. Five hundred timelines where he didn't know of a Castiel and he was happy.

Castiel was content with the central timeline. He wasn't human but he was near to it, and he was with Dean. Maybe not in the way that ten thousand versions of himself needed to be happy, but in a way that kept him content. He was with Dean in the only way that he was allowed to be in this timeline and that was enough. At least, enough for the time being. Enough for him to not try and lose it all.

Sometimes, when it got hard to bear the weight of an unreciprocated love, Castiel visited other timelines with the last bits of his Grace. He saw himself happy and could go back and bear a life of contentment.

And then he fell in the central timeline. He fell and he was no longer able to sense all the worlds in which he was happy. Time slowed to nearly a stop, a standstill. He was human and he was stagnant. But he was content, because he was with Dean.

It wasn't enough, not nearly. It wasn't long before he needed something _more_, but that wasn't something that he was allowed in this timeline. So he sequestered himself away in the hallways of the bunker; it wasn't hard to avoid the brothers in the large structure. That helped, at first. Alone, he could focus less on what he was missing.

That plan, however, failed as well. Dean came into his bedroom one morning before he had the chance to escape into the halls again and demanded to know what was wrong.

"Nothing's wrong," Castiel lied. He folded his arms across his chest as if to protect himself.

Dean looked concerned. "Something's obviously wrong, Cas. You can talk to me – or Sam," he added hastily. "About anything. You know that, right?"

Castiel nodded mutely.

They stood like that for a few moments, eyes locked, until Dean sighed and let his shoulders droop. "Okay. Go off, I guess. Dinner's at six; could you please try and be there?" He looked weary, so Castiel nodded again.

"I'll be there."

Dean waited another moment before leaving, and Castiel followed soon after, turning in the opposite direction and disappearing into the bunker's seemingly endless labyrinth of hallways. He walked with one hand trailing against the wall until he came across a clock that was still ticking along slowly. Even though he knew the time was probably completely off, it caused him to turn back and go back to the dining area.

He could smell the food long before he got there, and was greeted by the welcome sight of a set table.

Dean smiled at him as he entered. "I didn't think you'd be here."

Cas examined the table before answering. "But there's enough for three people here."

"I always make enough for you," Dean said with a shrug.

Castiel swallowed around a lump in his throat and sat down across the table from Dean. He reached into the middle of the table and took a slice of ham, then spooned himself some mashed potatoes from a dish. Dean handed him a beer, which he accepted graciously.

"Where's Sam?" he asked.

Dean looked down and shrugged. "Out with his little girlfriend, probably."

Cas nodded, accepting the answer, and started to cut into his meal.

"So, what's been on your mind lately, Cas?" Dean asked after clearing his throat, breaking the silence.

He chewed the meat thoughtfully before answering. "Have you ever considered the theory of the multiverse?"

Dean laughed uncomfortably. "That's some pretty deep dinner conversation. Are you telling me it's legit?"

Cas nodded. "There are innumerable timelines in the universe. I used to be able to see all of them at once, like they were all happening at the same time."

Dean popped a forkful of food into his mouth and considered the topic. "So, if there's innumerable timelines, does that mean in at least one of them, you're in love with me?"

Castiel coughed and felt himself almost choke on his food. "Uh, yes. Yes, it does."

"And then, in at least one of them, I'm in love with you, too?"

"Yes," Castiel said cautiously, eyeing his dinner companion uneasily. What if Dean knew and this was all some elaborate joke at his expense?

"And in one, it's mutual, and we're happy?"

He nodded, unable to look Dean in the eye. "Yes," he murmured.

"Do you know how many?"

"Ten thousand and seven," Cas answered without missing a beat.

There was silence from the other side of the table and Castiel worried for a fraction of a second, or maybe a millennia, that he'd messed everything up without even getting to say anything definite. But when he looked up, he saw Dean standing next to him.

"Can we make it ten thousand and eight?" Dean asked, looking afraid. "Or is that not allowed?"

"This is the core timeline," Castiel answered reflexively. "We can change anything we want; it will only create more timelines."

Dean put a hand on Cas' cheek softly, leaning down slowly. "Is this okay?"

Cas nodded and leaned up to meet Dean's lips. He smiled at the feeling and tangled his fingers in Dean's lapels. When they broke apart, Dean only moved so far as to rest their foreheads together.

"Is this what's been bothering you?" he asked, suddenly serious.

Castiel avoided his eyes and nodded. "It seems pointless now, I realize."

"Hey," Dean murmured, putting a hand on Cas' jaw and tilting the man's face up so that they were looking into each other's eyes again. "I was scared, too. But we've figured it out now."

Cas smiled. "Yes, we have."

And, for just a moment, he felt the happiness of ten thousand timelines converge. Then it disappeared and they were alone once more, smiling at each other in the dim light.


End file.
